GT excerpt 3

      This excerpt from Grave Tidings takes place before the scene in the hotel room. At the moment, I don't expect to win NaNoWriMo this year. The words are coming too slowly and too hard. But I'm going to keep slogging. Maybe the dam will burst some time soon, and a flood of words will sweep the book to the 50,000 word mark. It's possible.

      Grave Tidings excerpt 3

      Justina could never quite suppress a shiver when she saw the dark warehouse on the edge of Skiatook where her Uncle Bane made his home. Not that the warehouse looked any different from the others scattered around the industrial park, and the inside had been converted into a luxurious mansion with surprisingly homey touches, but her Uncle Bane was definitely not homey. He could be kind, gentle, even funny, but he flared across her Othersenses like a raging furnace. That kind of power deserved respect, particularly since he seemed inclined to view his wayward niece with a bemused affection. Other members of her extended family found her activities to be annoying at best and dangerous at worst.
      So when she spoke to the intercom outside the gate, she kept her tone friendly. "Uncle Bane, it's Justina. May I come in?"
      The gates opened silently in reply.
      She drove her black corvette into the parking lot and parked beside the lipstick red Dodge Viper. She frowned. Her mother was here, too. She was tempted to drive away, but Uncle Bane wanted to see her. It wasn't quite a summons, but it would do her no good to alienate the one of the few members of her family who didn't want her dead.
      Jameson, her uncle's butler, met her at the door. "Good evening, Miss Justina," he said. "Your uncle and your mother are in the library. They would like you to join them there. Would you like your usual?"
      "Yes, thank you, Jameson," she said, smiling at him.
      She walked down the wood paneled hall and paused for a moment before the black doors that led to the study. She took a deep breath and entered.
      Her uncle sat behind his cherry wood desk, sipping a brandy. Her mother sat across from him.
      Bane nodded. "Good evening, Justina. As lovely as always."
      She bowed. "Uncle. It's always a pleasure to see you." And it was. Her uncle, dressed invaribly like he had stepped from a Victorian novel, was a large man, but he carried his size lightly, as if any moment he might leap into the air. If anyone in her family could fly, it would be him. Despite his power -- or perhaps because of it -- he reminded Justina of the infinite possibilities that life presented.
      Her mother frowned. "Must you always wear leather, Justina? It looks cheap."
      "And good evening to you, too, Mother," Justina said evenly. She regarded her mother warily. Immaculately clothed in a white Chinese silk blouse, black Chanel suit, and Salvatore Ferragamo Riflessa black satin pumps, Isisa Grave immediately made Justina feel like a thrift store reject. Of course, her mother always had that effect on her.
      "Don't start picking at her, Isisa," Bane said. "We have much to discuss and not much time. Your bickering will only slow us down."
      "A mother is naturally concerned about her daughter's appearance," Isisa said. "I worry about Justina."
      Justina snorted, which she turned into a cough when Isisa turned her ice blue eyes toward her.
      "Your drink, Miss Justina," Jameson said as he entered the study.
      Justina took the Amaretto Sour from his tray and counted the fruit pieces in it. Jameson had outdone himself this time. The drink had three cherries, an orange slice, two pineapples chunks, and a strawberry on a long pick. "Just the way I like it," she said, smiling at the butler.
      His back to her uncle and mother, Jameson winked at her and turned to her uncle.
      "May I do anything else for you, sir?" Jameson asked.
      "No, thank you," Bane said.
      Jameson bowed and walked to the door.
      "You could have asked me," Isisa said peevishly.
      "Yes, ma'am, I could have," Jameson said with another bow and left the room.
      Justina hid a smile, but Bane laughed.
      "Someday he won't have you to protect him," Isisa snapped. "Then I'll teach him some manners.
      "Perhaps," Bane said. "But you might die before me." He smiled, revealing triple rows of white teeth. "Care to make a wager on it?"

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